Exercise # 1
The valley was lit dimly by the pale illumination from this month's full moon. the moon would now wane in the following nights, and the pale light would grow weaker, making traveling at night not an option. Although travelling at night was usually a bad idea anyway, for dingy highwaymen lurked the less-beaten path.
The Warrior now stood at the crest of the ravine-like valley, surveying the slightly lit grass and trees, whose leaves and blades swayed with the passing of a cool wind. The Warrior shivered when the wind bit through his ill-kempt leather and iron patchwork armor. He decided this was a sign of a cold front that would come to pass, and mentally noted on it. He had been travelling for days, and was famished. He was unsure of him making it anywhere before dying of starvation, or getting attacked.
The Warrior clutched the handle of his sword that lay idle beside him in its sheath, and descended, carefully using the moonlight to make sense of his surroundings. It was then he noticed something odd - a cottage, hidden behind some dense trees. He knew this was odd because he tried to recall what a bard once told him about settlers in this area - that they were cannibals. He shrugged it off as his stomach took control of his mind and propelled him closer to the door of the cottage, until he became face-to-face with it.
He knocked on the door hard, making a cocophony of sound fit to wake the dead. The door merely opened after a time, with a creak, as if struggling on its hinges. There was nothing the Warrior could see inside, nothing but darkness.